Late Tea with Mom

The warm aroma of ginger and chicken broth drifted through the family kitchen, curling into the corners like a quiet memory.

Lex let the steam rise into his face, breathing it in as he slowly stirred his soup.

It tasted the same as always—comforting, simple, familiar.

Across from him, his mother sat with her hair tied back neatly, faint streaks of gray threading through the dark strands. Her face was calm, but Lex saw the exhaustion hidden behind her eyes—the kind of tiredness that never fully left.

She took a slow sip of her soup, then glanced at him. "You keep staring at your bowl like it owes you money."

Lex smirked, setting his spoon down. "Just thinking."

Lian Mei lifted her spoon again, blowing gently before taking another sip. "That's never a good sign."

Lex chuckled, letting the quiet settle between them.

Then, finally, he leaned forward slightly.

"I started something today," he said casually pouring some jasmine tea.

His mother's spoon paused halfway to her mouth before she lowered it back into the bowl.

"What kind of something?"

Lex met her gaze. "A company. Small—for now. Latham Ventures."

The corner of her mouth twitched, but her eyes stayed sharp. "You're seventeen, Lex. Most boys your age are worrying about summer jobs or begging for cars. You're opening a company?"

Lex shrugged."I am interning and I already have a supra. Relax, it's not a hedge fund. Just small investments—startups, tech, entertainment. Stuff Dad used to talk about."

At the mention of his father, her expression softened slightly, but she said nothing at first.

"You've been talking to Elias," she guessed, her voice quiet but certain.

Lex nodded. "He's drawing up the paperwork."

She let out a slow breath, stirring her soup without eating it.

"Your father started small like that," she said, glancing at him with a faint smile. "He used to come home late, talking about directors and inventors like they were his friends. I thought he was wasting his time."

Lex smiled faintly. "He wasn't."

"No," she agreed softly. "He wasn't."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Lex exhaled, his gaze lowering to the faint scratches on the table—marks left behind from years of shared meals and quiet conversations like this.

Letting Go

"There's something else," he said.

His mother lifted her eyes, waiting.

"I want to sell the penthouse."

The words hung in the air between them.

Lian Mei's fingers tightened slightly around her spoon.

She hadn't been expecting that.

She lowered her gaze, lingering on the edge of the bowl, as if measuring the weight of the decision.

"You're sure?" she asked quietly.

Lex nodded. "We're happy here. The penthouse—" He hesitated, choosing his words. "—feels like holding on to something we've already let go."

Lian Mei exhaled softly, setting her spoon down.

"That place meant a lot to your father."

"I know," Lex said, voice softer now. "But we don't live there anymore. He wouldn't want it collecting dust."

Another pause.

Then she gave a small, understanding nod.

"If you think it's right… I trust you."

Lex felt his shoulders ease slightly, but there was still more to say.

"Mom."

His voice was softer this time.

Lian Mei arched a brow. "What is it?"

Lex hesitated for half a second, then said, "Thank you."

His mother blinked, surprised. "For what?"

Lex smirked slightly. "For everything."

Her expression flickered—just for a moment—before a gentle warmth crept into her eyes.

She smiled, shaking her head lightly. "You say that like I'm done raising you."

Lex chuckled. "Not quite. But I think I've put you through enough."

She reached across the table, brushing his hand lightly. "You'll always be my son, Lex. No matter how big you think you are."

Lex held her gaze, something unspoken settling between them.

She had been there through everything.

The losses. The uncertainty. The nights where neither of them had been sure what came next.

She had fought for him.

And now?

He'd fight for her.

Lex leaned back and add. "I've been thinking."

"Dangerous," she mused.

Lex rolled his eyes. "You should take a trip."

Her brow lifted slightly, amused. "Trying to send me away already?"

"No." Lex smirked, shaking his head. "I just think you deserve it. Somewhere by the water—maybe the coast. Maybe Thailand. It's been a while since you've had a holiday."

Lian Mei's gaze softened, though a shadow of doubt lingered behind her eyes.

"And what about you?" she asked.

"I'll manage." Lex's tone was smooth. "I've got plans to keep me busy."

She studied him carefully, searching his face for something unspoken.

Then, with a small, knowing smile, she said, "You sound more like him every day."

Lex's smirk softened, his fingers brushing the edge of his spoon. "I'll take that as a compliment."

They ate quietly after that, the conversation slipping into shared glances and familiar comfort.

As the meal wound down, Lex's tone shifted.

"Mom."

She looked up, sensing the seriousness in his voice.

"I need you to do something for me."

She arched a brow. "Another trip?"

"No," Lex said, smiling faintly. "I want you to get a health check. Before you go anywhere."

Her expression flickered—brief surprise, then mild disapproval. "Lex, I'm fine."

"I know," he replied, his voice steady. "But just… humor me."

She sighed, shaking her head with a soft laugh. "You worry too much."

Lex held her gaze. "I learned it from you."

Her lips curved, but there was something tender in her eyes.

A beat of silence.

Then, finally—"Alright. I'll schedule one this week."

Lex nodded.

The knot in his chest loosened—just slightly.

As the evening stretched on, Lex lingered at the table, long after the dishes had been cleared.

His gaze drifted toward the faint glow of the city lights beyond the window.

His father's legacy wasn't just a burden to carry.

It was a foundation.

And Lex was ready to build something new—for himself, and for the people who still mattered.